


Sehnsucht ist so grausam

by moon_waves



Category: Rammstein
Genre: Fluff, Friends to Lovers, Light Angst, M/M, Not Cheating, Pining, Sehnsucht Era, Stargazing
Language: English
Status: Completed
Published: 2020-03-18
Updated: 2020-03-18
Packaged: 2021-02-28 20:21:26
Rating: Teen And Up Audiences
Warnings: No Archive Warnings Apply
Chapters: 1
Words: 4,852
Publisher: archiveofourown.org
Story URL: https://archiveofourown.org/works/23203135
Author URL: https://archiveofourown.org/users/moon_waves/pseuds/moon_waves
Summary: Ollie had been intent on making most of his time on the beach alone in the middle of the night, staring at the constellations over his head, but maybe some company wasn't so bad, after all.
Relationships: Oliver Riedel/Christoph Schneider (implied), Richard Kruspe/Oliver Riedel, Richard Kruspe/Till Lindemann (implied), Till Lindemann/Christoph Schneider (background)
Comments: 24
Kudos: 29





	Sehnsucht ist so grausam

_California, June 1999._

_Finally_ , they had stopped in a hotel in a place that was remote enough for constellations to be visible in the sky. He could see them clearly now, lying on the warm sand of the beach, hands cushioning the back of his head as his eyes were slowly drawing the familiar figures. There were Ursa Minor and Cassiopeia standing close to one another, with Andromeda just slightly farther left, and Pegasus down south. His eyes glided over the forms of the Zodiac signs – Pisces, Aquarius, the Capricornus constellation and Sagittarius – before moving higher up again. He was slightly less familiar with the other constellations, and frowned a little, trying to recognize which one was standing north of Ursa Minor.

Here, he could rest, and forget about the thoughts running in his mind, forget the tension that was boiling in the band, forget the insults that were barely disguised as barbs anymore, forget the fact that it looked more probable with each passing day that the band might not even make it until the end of the tour, forget about the fact he had celebrated, in the secret of his heart, the sixth anniversary of his being in love and not daring to do anything about it…

Dry seaweeds cracked under the shoes of someone coming in his direction and he sighed, knowing he could say goodbye to his peaceful stargazing.

Well, it had been nice while it had lasted.

“The view’s nice tonight,” Richard said as he plopped down on the sand before sitting cross-legged, his flip-flops negligently thrown to the side.

Ollie hummed quietly, briefly looking at him before turning his attention back on the sky. The stars were burning bright in front of his eyes, a reminder that no matter what might happen, he could always count on nature to be here for him. Calm, present, unflinchingly present.

Close as they were to the end of the second leg of their North American tour was, he knew it was a good thing they had stopped in a motel to spend the night. Only a few more days before he could go home, and the thought was the only thing that could convince him to keep holding his tongue, rather than say something he might regret…

“The sky is clear,” Ollie finally said in return after a moment of silence.

Richard hummed but didn’t say anything. Slightly curious, Ollie turned his head to look at him, squinting under the moonlight. There was the faintest of light on the other side of the beach, coming from the hut that served as a bar. It was far enough that he could barely hear the music and voices coming from there, and the distance also meant they weren’t very likely to be disturbed.

The guitarist looked calmer and more at ease under the waning moon than he had had in the past few weeks. There was none of the jittery energy that accompanied a coke high, none of the nervous, sharp movements that had slowly become Richard’s signature gesture over… well, since a couple of months, if he was being honest with himself.

It was just Richard, hair in disarray, a shirt too big for him hazardously thrown over his shoulders, cargo shorts that were sure to be bringing sand all the way back to his hotel room, quiet and thoughtful in the way he had been, a decade ago.

Ollie felt his heart tightening a little at the memory. It seemed like so long ago, sometimes, when they had been hanging around in Schwerin, and then coming across one another during concerts and festivals, a collection of ragged bands with no real future to think of. Even their time as roommates seemed to have happened a long time ago, almost in another lifetime… it was strange to think it had been barely five years ago.

“Wasn’t there a party at the hotel?” Ollie asked curiously, attention definitely picked by now.

Richard nodded.

“Yeah, but it wasn’t…” he gestured in the direction of the sea before putting his hand in his hair, messing it even more. “I wasn’t really in the mood anymore.”

He looked at Ollie, eyes kind under the stars.

“You didn’t go either,” he pointed out gently.

Ollie shrugged. He looked at the Cassiopeia constellation without seeing it before turning his attention back onto Richard, who was still waiting patiently for his answer, drawing figures in the sand with the tip of his fingers.

The waves were rolling down softly in the darkness and it felt nice, as if they were in a little bubble of their own, with no one to disturb them.

“I wasn’t in the mood at all,” he finally said, meeting Richard’s eyes. “I think I’ve had my fill of parties with girls and alcohol for the summer. I suppose Paul was still the life of the party when you left?”

Richard nodded.

“It was a bit quieter, though,” he said quietly. “The party was coming down, actually. Paul and Flake were the only ones left. Well, with the girls,” he amended quickly.

Ollie frowned a little.

“Schneider and Till were already gone?” he asked, a little surprised, trying to push back the jealousy that was already awakening at the bottom of his stomach.

A bitter smile spread on Richard’s lips and Ollie knew the answer before he even opened his mouth.

“Yeah. They left rather early, mind you,” he explained curtly, and Ollie watched him, wondering if the guitarist could recognize the envy that was tainting his words or if he was still as oblivious as ever. “He kept touching Till, you know, grabbing his arm, holding him by the neck…”

“Till has been really tense lately,” Ollie murmured, knowing Richard would pick on his voice anyway. “And his sessions with Schneider always…”

“Help, I know,” Richard mumbled in return, an unhappy frown still present on his face.

It was written all over his shoulders and Ollie felt a twinge of pity for him. There were a few things he was sure of in life – the Moon was round, swimming in the sea was the best kind of swimming, no one could make a better Muskazine than his mom, Flake missed the East, and Richard… well, Richard was orbiting around Till, completely oblivious of his own feelings. It had been funny to witness, at first, in a baffled way, but now it was just sad. Especially when the rest of the band was aware of Till’s own feelings for the guitarist…

Ollie wasn’t sure if Richard was _that_ oblivious, or if he had a vague inkling and was just refusing to think about it.

(Well, he wasn’t going to blame him if he refused to do so. He wasn’t exactly in a position to lecture anyone about their feelings, and what to do – or _not_ to do – about them.)

“I just wish it didn’t involve leather and wax,” Richard grumbled, voice so low Ollie had to strain to hear him.

“Schneider is always careful,” Ollie mumbled before pinching his lips, refusing to let his thoughts fly away to the drummer’s bedroom, already picturing him, shirtless and with a domineering expression on his face and a riding crop and –

No. Not going there.

Richard peered at him under the moonlight, brows still furrowed before his expression morphed into something else – that suspiciously looked like pity, and Ollie was definitely going to kick him if he dared _pity him_.

“Oh, Ollie… Still?” he asked gently, and Ollie only refrained himself from glaring daggers at him at the sympathy in the guitarist’ voice.

He didn’t say anything, didn’t move a finger for a moment before nodding, swallowing around the lump in his throat and looking away, eyes drawn back to the stars over them.

Richard had picked on his crush on Schneider almost before Ollie had realized it by himself, when all three of them had been roommates, and he remembered very well the weeks the guitarist had spent trying to convince him to make a move, before finally letting go when they had started working on Rammstein – before the band even had a name, before it was complete – putting instead all of his energy and focus in his new musical project. He hadn’t tried to push Ollie any more after that, and Ollie had been intent on making sure no one would notice, least of all the target of his affection.

Now, though… under the stars and the moonlight, under Richard’s kind gaze, it was almost impossible to lie, and he was too tired to, anyway.

He nodded in silence, keeping his eyes focused on Ursa Minor over his head, and yet unable to escape the sounds of Richard’s shifting clothes as he moved closer to him before gently nudging his leg with his bare foot.

“I thought you had gotten over it,” Richard said, still in the same gentle tone that made Ollie want to kick him or lean on his shoulder.

Both at the same time.

“I just got better at hiding it, that’s all,” Ollie mumbled once he felt like he could speak over the lump in his throat.

Richard hummed quietly. He remained there in silence for a moment, giving Ollie the time to compose himself again, before suddenly moving and lying on his side on the beach, one hand holding his head and the other resting lightly atop Ollie’s stomach, moving with his every breath.

“I’m sorry,” he said simply. “I wouldn’t have talked about,” he jerked his head in the direction of their motel, hidden behind the pines marking the limit of the beach, “tonight like that if I had known.”

Ollie shrugged, ignoring the burning sensation that was growing in his shoulders and the way his fingers were tickling after all that time spent cushioning his head.

“It’s fine,” he said quietly. “I know you didn’t do it on purpose.”

“Still…”

Richard hesitated, his hand a comforting weight on Ollie’s stomach, and the bassist finally tore his gaze from the stars to look at the guitarist lying next to him. Despite it being the end of June, the night was still cool enough that he didn’t feel too hot with his shirt on at… well, in the middle of the night. He could still feel the heat coming from Richard’s body, but it wasn’t unpleasant, just another firm reminded he wasn’t alone.

“You should talk to him,” Richard went on, a bit hesitant.

“No.”

“Ollie…”

“Honestly, Reesh, _no_ ,” Ollie said forcefully, voice still low, now close enough that he could see the expressions on the guitarist’ face despite the faint light. “I don’t want to hear him turning me down, no matter how _nice_ he might be about it.”

“He isn’t necessarily going to turn you down,” Richard pointed out, replaying their old argument with ease. “Especially if there is just sex on the table.”

Ollie looked away, clenching his jaws, feeling his cheeks burn with annoyance.

“That’s easy for you to say,” he finally grumbled, half-tempted to swat Richard’s hand away – but no, this wasn’t going to help him in the slightest, and it did feel good to talk about it with someone, even if it wasn’t going to go anywhere.

“Yeah, I know, Schneider would rather eat his drumsticks than sleep with me, and the feeling is mutual,” Richard said nonchalantly before leaning closer to Ollie, one arm thrown across his stomach, fingers drifting lightly across his ribs. “Doesn’t mean it would be the same with you.”

“He isn’t interested in _blushing virgins_ ,” Ollie hissed between his teeth, cheeks still on fire, eyes looking so intensely at the constellation of Ursa Minor that they were starting to burn. “So no, thank you.”

Richard tutted.

“He said that when talking about hooking up with groupies,” the guitarist said calmly before tugging Ollie a little closer to him. “ _Especially_ when there’s leather and collars involved.”

Ollie huffed and finally stopped using his hands as a pillow, letting his head fall with the soft _thump_ on the sand. He stretched his arms a little, mindful not to accidentally hit Richard, before letting his left hand rest on his torso, the other moving to Richard’s hair, who pushed against it.

A real cat, that one, and he felt the ghost of a smile tug at the corner of his lips at the thought.

“He meant it when hooking up with guys, too,” Ollie pointed out, mood darkening again. “It has been his policy for a long time. I mean, ever since he started hooking up with Till.”

He regretted his choice of words as soon as they came out of his mouth, but Richard didn’t seem to react – expect for the usual tension that quickly disappeared as Ollie kept running his fingers through his hair. It was a lot nicer to do that _now_ than a few years before, when Richard had been sporting the worst haircut known to man. Silkier to the touch, and very soft, even after weeks in a tourbus, and two days spent by the seaside.

“That’s because they’re having their… _sessions_ ,” Richard said, still in the same patient tone, and Ollie turned his head to look at him.

They were close enough to kiss, if he just tugged on Richard’s hair a little, and he couldn’t say the thought had never crossed his mind – especially in the first months, when they were roommates and he was still so blissfully unaware of his attraction for Schneider, but…

It did feel like taking advantage, now.

Even though it was enticing.

Richard was warm next to him, soft and understanding. He wouldn’t want push him away if Ollie tried to do something, he was sure of it.

“Sessions,” Ollie repeated flatly.

“You know. Kinky sex. That kind of stuff.”

“It’s called BDSM, Reesh, and you know it perfectly well. Honestly, I don’t understand why you can’t say it out loud.”

Richard grimaced and started leaning away but Ollie kept him in position, hand still running in his hair. The gesture was enough and Richard settled in position again, his hold over Ollie’s stomach slightly tighter than before.

“I just… don’t like that,” he said simply.

Ollie couldn’t help but feel a chuckle escape him, before pre-emptively petting Richard’s hair to stop him from moving away.

“I know that. Till knows that. _Schneider_ knows that. I mean, everyone in the band knows that. It shouldn’t stop you from using the word, though.”

Richard grumbled something that Ollie couldn’t decipher before pushing against his hand once again. Ollie smiled at the gesture, tugging at a strand of hair before scratching Richard’s head, amused by his reaction.

“You’re aware that you really behave like a cat when you do that, right?” he asked, amusement coloring his voice.

“A stray picked from the gutter, I know,” Richard grumbled.

There was a dark undertone to his words and Ollie tugged him a little closer, not particularly wanting him to go down that road.

“You know Paul doesn’t mean it like that.”

Richard shrugged.

“It doesn’t matter how he means it,” he said simply, “it’s true. But enough about me. Don’t think you can change the conversation so easily, Ollie. You’ve got to do something about Schneider. You can’t just… stay here in silence. Besides, you’re _not_ a blushing virgin, I met enough of your girlfriends to know that.”

Well, so much for his attempt at diversion. He was half-tempted to curse himself for being so transparent, but… well, his feelings were a heavy burden to bear, sometimes, and it felt nice to have someone to share his secret with.

“Girls are a different matter altogether,” Ollie said after a moment of silence, looking at the stars again. “I’m not… it’s…”

His voice trailed off and he shifted uncomfortably when he heard Richard’s short intake of breath at his words.

“Oh… you mean you never…”

“Slept with a guy? No.”

He was surprised at the bitterness of his voice and turned to look at Richard again, who was staring at him with a thoughtful expression on his face. He had stopped drawings figures over Ollie’s shirt but kept moving his head every time Ollie stopped petting his hair, a clear sign he was relaxed to let his guard down while holding the conversation.

That hadn’t happened much in recent memory – the past few weeks hadn’t been kind to him, Ollie realized. To none of them, truly, and he hoped the summer break would allow them to relax again in each other’s presence, rather than being constantly on their guard. It was tiring, and tours were exhausting enough on their own.

“We have had plenty of opportunities over the years,” Richard pointed out gently, looking at him with a serious expression. “Especially when we’re touring.”

“I don’t want to fuck a guy in the bathroom of a gas station,” Ollie said forcefully and Richard jerked back in surprise at his tone. “Or in the backroom of a venue, or, or…”

“Okay, okay” Richard said gently before tugging at his shirt a little. “No hook-ups with a random stranger, I get that –”

“Do you really?” Ollie interrupted him, stilling his hand in Richard’s hair.

Richard nodded, and Ollie wondered if the shadows on his face were just a figment of his imagination.

“Hooking up with groupies is fun and everything, but at one point, I would rather be in my bed – or in bed with someone I actually know and appreciate, you know? Groupies are… I mean, the girls are nice, and really pretty, don’t me wrong, but they’re strangers.”

His tone was surprisingly candid and Ollie stared at him for a moment before resuming his petting. He hadn’t quite expected that kind of answer from Richard, but that partly explained his behavior when they were touring – he was always more tactile at the end than at the beginning, but usually, save for Till, none of them really felt like indulging him on a daily basis.

“So what, you would rather get a handjob from one of your bandmates rather than spend the night with a girl or two?” Ollie asked, a bit incredulous, and yet still trying to steer the conversation away from his relationship woes.

( _Lack_ of relationship, more likely, but…)

“Yeah, or give one, I’m not picky,” Richard said nonchalantly – but he didn’t meet his eyes, cool façade not as strong as it was supposed to be.

Ollie refrained himself from smiling when he noticed the guitarist’s badly disguised nervousness.

“As long as it is with someone you know and like, uh?” he said gently, throwing Richard’s words back at him.

Richard huffed before meeting his eyes again. Ollie wasn’t completely sure of it, but he would have bet the guitarist was _blushing_ , if only a little.

“It’s not nice to tease,” he said before poking Ollie between the ribs, getting a little yelp out of him. “I’m just trying to help! As it seems to bother you _that much_ not to have slept with a guy. Is it why you aren’t approaching Schneider?”

Ollie felt his laughter die in his throat before furiously blushing. He was glad it was the middle of the night – he was sure he was red from head to toes, if the burning sensation was anything to go by.

Richard took his silence for an acquiescence and sighed a little.

“Ollie…”

“ _Don’t_ ,” Ollie warned him, cheeks on fire.

“I _really_ don’t think Schneider would hold your lack of experience against you.”

“And how would you know that, exactly?”

Richard hesitated.

“I don’t,” he said a bit sheepishly, and Ollie felt a strange mix of victory and disappointment at his words. “I know the guy, that’s all. If you want to sleep with him without having any kind of experience, he is going to feel flattered, not…”

“That’s what you think,” Ollie grumbled, grateful for the moonlight that was hiding the deep blush on his face. “You can’t be _sure_ of it.”

Richard sighed again.

“Okay, so, what now? You’re going to stare at him from afar for the rest of your life?”

Ollie remained silent.

“Until you sleep with a guy?”

Ollie hesitated.

“Maybe,” he mumbled.

Richard huffed again before dropping against him. Ollie gasped a little before swatting the limb closest to him, his other hand still holding onto the guitarist’ hair.

“ _Richard!”_ he hissed in a low tone, half-tempted to kick him away.

“I’m right there!” the guitarist said in a muffled voice before raising his head to look at Ollie, chin resting on top of his shoulder. “Listen, Ollie, I’m _here_ , I just told you I wasn’t opposed to sleeping with one of my bandmates, you’re pining after Schneider just because you haven’t slept with a guy before. You do realize there is an easy solution to your problem, right?”

Ollie stared at him for a moment, not quite believing what he had just heard, before tugging harshly on Richard’s hair, his little yelp of pained surprise not even making him feel better.

“That is… honestly, Reesh, that’s the least romantic proposal I ever heard,” he hissed between his clenched teeth, trying to get his blush to cool off at some point.

Richard looked at him incredulously.

“Because you want me to _woo you_ , on top of it?”

“No one said anything about you _topping_!”

His words hovered awkwardly between them. To his great horror, Ollie felt his blush intensify – and at this distance, he also saw Richard’s eyebrows slowly rose as high as they could.

Oh, fuck.

“Bossy,” the guitarist grumbled without any heat.

Ollie gently petted his head in apology, relaxing a little as Richard pushed back against his hand.

“That wasn’t smooth at all,” he said quietly, trying to get his heartbeat back under control.

There was a moment of silence, broken only by the sounds of the waves softly crashing nearby – and the faint music coming from the little hut on the other side on the beach.

“You’re right,” Richard finally said in a low voice, sheepishly. “Sorry.”

They remained silent for a moment, Ollie still running his fingers through the silky hair, eyes drawn once again to the constellations over their heads. It was Ursa Major a bit northern of Ursa Minor – of course it was, and he couldn’t understand why he hadn’t recognized it right away. Had he been so disturbed by the change of position compared to Berlin? It wasn’t his first time stargazing in the States though…

“I just don’t like knowing you’re sad when I know I can help you feel better,” said a muffled voice to his right.

Ollie turned his head to look at Richard, whose face was very pointedly turned in the direction of the sea, although it was impossible to see it in the darkness. A soft, small smile started tugging at the corner of his lips, and he felt a wave of affection surge through his veins.

“I didn’t know I was your type,” he said teasingly in a gentle voice, careful to keep playing with Richard’s hair.

Who moved his head to look at him, careful not to dislodge his hand.

“Oh, come on Ollie, how could you not be someone’s type? And you know what? I don't have to mention the way you play with your bass. You have a wicked sense of humor, very nice eyes, _and_ very nice muscles from all the sport you’re doing, I mean, did none of your girlfriends compliment you on your back? And you’re _genuinely_ nice, and you know how to listen to people, oh, and, you’re reliable too.”

“You keep complaining that I’m late to recordings.”

Richard waved his words away.

“You’re there for the stuff that matters, that’s what counts,” he said forcefully, poking at Ollie’s chest. “Also, you’re tall. That’s nice.”

“You do like it when people tower over you,” Ollie said quietly, smiling gently, heart having suddenly doubled in size.

Richard shrugged and Ollie felt a familiar feeling of fondness surge through him. He knew he wasn’t the only tall guy with nice eyes and swimming-shaped back muscles in the band, but he wasn’t going to call Richard out on that – he probably hadn’t even noticed it.

“And you make a very comfortable pillow, too,” Richard added, voice half-muffled as his cheek was resting on Ollie’s shirt again.

“You sure about that?” Ollie asked quietly, laughter bubbling at the back of throat, fingers grazing behind Richard’s ear, half-expecting to hear him purring.

Richard nodded. Ollie looked at him, amusement dancing in his eyes, but didn’t comment on it any further. The sudden, _unexpected_ onslaught of compliments had been nice, and he wanted to bask in the feeling of appreciation a bit longer.

They remained in that position for some time, Ollie running his fingers through Richard’s hair while the guitarist was drawing weird figures over his ribs, careful not to press down and tickle him. It was _nice_ , comfortable even, and with none of the pressure Ollie might have expected after Richard’s offer.

He was starting to doze off when he felt a hand gripping a little more tightly at his shirt. He turned his head to the side, and barely had the time to blink as Richard’s nose brushed against his, before he felt two lips on his mouth. The contact was chaste, and he swallowed a little gasp of surprise, instead tentatively moving his lips against Richard’s. It wasn’t like kissing a girl – Richard’s lips were a bit chaffed, and he couldn’t ignore the firm lines pressed against his body – but it felt as good as he had expected it to be.

Not with the person he had fantasized about, but hey, this was _real_ , and not a dream. He certainly wasn’t going to complain about it.

Richard moved back after a moment, biting his lower lip as he raised his eyes towards Ollie.

“Okay?” he asked hesitantly, voice quiet and sounding a little unsure.

Ollie nodded, not too sure of his voice either. He licked his lips with nervousness before gently tugging on Richard’s hair, getting him to move again. He wasn’t as surprised when Richard kissed him this time, and felt more assured to kiss him back, taking his time to enjoy and explore the new sensations. He moved his other hand to cup Richard’s cheek, grazing the light stubble that was there, encouraged by the little noises of appreciation coming from the guitarist.

Ollie couldn’t have said how long they remained kissing under the stars, their every move getting more assured as they kept touching each other. It was quite the discovery, and Ollie was definitely glad it was happening with a friend – without even mentioning how hot he could find him, especially like that, warm and pliant in the moonlight – and not in an anonymous room with little more than a stranger.

It was only when things started getting a little more heated – teasing fingers drifting under his shirt and then moving closer to the hem of his pants – that they separated, both slightly panting. Ollie could feel the blush that had spread to his ears, but that didn’t bother him – for once. Richard wasn’t looking much better on top of him, from what he could see by the pale moonlight in any case, and the sight brought some amusement to his smile – as well as a faint feeling of pride.

“A bed might be more comfortable,” Richard said in a hoarse voice, hand resting directly on top of his hip, fingers spread over his sensitive skin.

“Your room or mine?” Ollie asked, words fumbling to leave his mouth, his voice sounding a bit strange to his ears.

He as already starting to get a bit constricted in his pants, and wasn’t the only one, if the firm length pressed against him was anything to go by.

Richard raised an eyebrow at his question.

“Do you have lube in your room?” he asked plainly.

Ollie mumbled a negative answer, feeling the tip of his ears burn. Richard bent down to kiss the top of his nose before suddenly jumping to his feet, offering his hand to Ollie.

“Mine, then,” he said simply.

Ollie stared at him for a brief moment before taking his hand, a bit surprised at the burning feeling he got from touching Richard’s skin. He swayed a little on his feet at the sudden change of position, the guitarist steadying him with a teasing remark before starting to drag him back to the hotel, barely taking the time to put back on his flip-flops.

“Come on then loverboy, the night’s still young and there is a lot of fun waiting for us.”

Ollie blushed furiously at his words but let himself being guided, not commenting nor complaining when Richard entwined their fingers together. All in one, it was a great evening, and he was eager to see what kind of _pleasurable_ surprises would happen next.

After all, making out under the stars had always been a fantasy of his, and he was absolutely delighted it had come to life.

**Author's Note:**

> If you liked this story, please consider leaving a comment.


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